


lose our weary minds

by NorthOfSomewhere



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Flash Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26643895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthOfSomewhere/pseuds/NorthOfSomewhere
Summary: The first time John kills someone, Jacob is there to help him through it.
Relationships: Jacob Seed/John Seed
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	lose our weary minds

He stares down at his hands. At the red seeping into his clothes. A wave of nausea washes over him, cramping painfully in his stomach.

_My phone._

His shoes try to stick to the floor when he steps over the man's body to get it off the table he left it on.

His hands shake as he dials, leaving streaks behind.

_I should have washed my hands first._

It rings three times before he answers.

"Jacob?" John says, he tries to stop the waver in his voice on the next words. Fails to do so. "I need help."  
  


* * *

When Jacob gets to the slaughterhouse, John is still in the same spot. He can't bring himself to move. He may have thought about this, but actually killing someone is different than his dreams. He wonders if Jacob will think him weak.

"John," he says when he spots him, and his voice is so _soft._

It tips John from the verge of puking into something else entirely. He chokes on a laugh. And then he can't stop. He's laughing and laughing and it _hurts._

He feels his brother's hands on his shoulders.

"It's okay," Jacob says, "It'll be okay."

He rubs John's shoulders and he says it again. This time John nods, forces himself to stop laughing, tries to catch his breath.

"Are you ready?" he asks when John's breathing has evened out. He's being so gentle, careful with his words and his hands that John says yes.

Jacob pulls out a saw from his bag, handing it to John. He grabs another for himself. He didn't bring gloves, but he doesn't question him. The saw is light in his hands. He runs his fingers along the sharp teeth of it until one pierces the skin.

They work side by side.

He thinks they're lucky that the scent of blood is already soaked into the walls.

It takes longer to finish the job than he thought it would.

It's half past four in the morning when Jacob breaks the silence again. When they're close to scrubbing away the worst of the blood off the concrete. Everything else is contained in black garbage bags. A human, he forces himself to think. A human life reduced to nothing but chunks of _meat._ and stuffed into garbage bags. It doesn't make him feel anything. Thinking of what Joseph would say though, brings something like shame. Guilt, hanging heavy in his chest. It carries a metallic aftertaste.

"You did what you had to. That's what we do. Anything to protect our family."

John nods, blood in his hair, on his hands, on his soul. Jacob must see it, his doubt, because he grips his shoulders again, tightly.

"Look at me," he demands.

When John looks up obediently, Jacob nods.

"Don't you _ever_ feel bad about this."

He wants to say that Joseph would think less of him, but he doesn't.

"Okay," John says instead, voice steadier than it was.

Jacob ruffles John's hair, getting more blood in it. A drop falls to John's cheek. Jacob lifts his hand to John's face, brushing his thumb carefully against the drop to wipe it away. John leans into the touch, on instinct. Chasing the comfort. He freezes when he realizes.

Jacob does too, but only for a moment.

"I love you," He says, cupping John's face in his hands. "I'm sorry. It should have been me..."

There's sadness there.

He has a feeling Jacob is talking about something else.

He doesn't know what to say.

Jacob remembers and ascribes more to the past than John even knows. The only thing that John has are flickers of images. Ghosts of feelings. Fear, being one of them. Anger, another. He's not even sure that it's his own. He remembers so little from their shared past. He was too young. His long-term memory still forming and he's left with almost nothing. Pain, is all it amounts to. The only thing he remembers clearly are his brother's faces.

So, he says what he hopes are the right words.

"I love you too."

Jacob leans down, slowly. He thinks for a second that Jacob might kiss him. He wouldn't mind. Would welcome it, even. But he only draws their foreheads together. John's eyes flutter shut.

He'll take what he can get.


End file.
